


Diamond and Candy Rings

by navree



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Day Three - Favorite Marriage, F/M, Marriage Proposal, PARENTDALEAW2K19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 20:19:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17794082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navree/pseuds/navree
Summary: "Did you ever think? Us and them?" No. No, none of them thought.A tale of two proposals.





	Diamond and Candy Rings

**Author's Note:**

> doing this because a) i promise y'all when i delve into gladys and hiram's relationship you will see what i've been speaking and preaching and b) couldn't pick a legitimate fave so i cheated  
> as always, comments (either positive or constructive) are always welcome and much appreciated!

 

"Veronica's cute." Gladys sits down next to him at the plastic table in the corner he's monopolized for himself, crossing her legs at the knee. Hiram nods, and pushes Hermione's discarded glass of champagne towards her. "You must be proud." There's something warm unfurling in his chest, the same something that always shows up whenever people let him talk about his daughter. Hiram isn't a gusher, never has been, but Veronica...  
He could fill days and nights doing nothing but talking about Veronica.

"You must be too," is what he says instead of doing what he really wants. Gladys's son is, what, roughly Veronica's age? In an alternate universe where he could marginally stand Riverdale, they could go to school together. Gladys and Hiram, the second generation. "What's your boy's name?"

"Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third." Hiram groans dramatically, head lolling back, and Gladys swats his shoulder. "It's a Jones family name! FP and I are just following tradition!"

"Gladys, I say this with love, but subjecting your poor child to that name makes me want to call child services." They both dissolve in another fit of laughter, and Hiram tries not think about how long it's been since he felt this easy with a friend. Too long. Hell, it's been a while since he felt this easy at all, around anyone other than family. But he doesn't say that, just clears his throat and tilts his head inquisitively and says,

"You and FP Jones." Gladys nods, as if it needed confirming. It doesn't, he saw FP's wedding band, saw their arms around each other in that casual way couples do, the way he and Hermione are sometimes. "I have to say, I didn't see that as a possibility at all when I left."

"Well, it all happened after you left," Gladys says, and he hopes she manages to dance around his inability to step foot in Riverdale for longer than a week just as delicately as she danced around an awful neon orange shirt he had been attached to when they were kids. "And you know, it definitely wasn't something I expected either." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ears with her left hand, and Hiram catches her wrist.  
  
"The real question is how FP Jones," and he's not saying this to be callous, not at all, they grew up in similar circumstances, "managed to afford that." Gladys toys with the ring on her finger and says nothing.

* * *

 

They were living together, already working to support each other. Gladys spent most of her time at the auto shop, and FP was hard at work with Fred at their construction company. That wasn't even counting time moonlighting with the Serpents, and half of Gladys's life, it seemed, was spent feeling tired.

But it was the good kind of tired, the tired that came from doing work because you wanted to have equal pull in a relationship with someone you loved, someone whose life you shared. The kind of tired that let you curl up against that someone's chest and fall asleep and feel safe while doing so, feel loved.

Sometimes they have dinner together, like tonight, which is just basic pasta until she makes a really benign comment about how they're playing a Back To The Future marathon at the Twilight Drive In this weekend and maybe they should take some time to go see it. FP gets an odd look on his face and pushes back his chair, leaving before she's even gotten her forkful of food to her mouth.

She's half inclined to see if he's been struck by a bout of nausea and why, her food's not that bad, when he returns, sits down, and then plunks a small jewelry box on the table between them. Gladys stares like he just put a hand grenade right next to the salt shaker.

"What is that?"

"A jewelry box," FP replies and she rolls her eyes, pushing her plate to the side.

"I'm aware of that, FP, but what is in the jewelry box?" Gladys asks. In lieu of an answer, he just opens it, and there's a ring inside, with a delicate band and an actual, honest to God diamond smack dab in the center. She feels as if her eyebrows are at her hairline, and for a moment is totally and completely speechless before pragmatism compels her to speak again.

"Jesus FP's, that's gonna set us back five-" He waves her off before she even finishes.

"I didn't buy it."

"Oh." Gladys stares for another minute, before, almost guiltily, asking, "Did you steal it?"

"No!" He seems affronted, but it fades pretty quickly. "It was my Nana's." Again,

"Oh."

It's a very nice ring. It's a very nice ring and apparently it was his grandmother's and Gladys has a sneaking suspicion of what's happening here, what's about to happen next, and her head feels like someone yanked her brain out through her nose and stuffed her skull full of cotton balls in its place. Sure enough, FP takes the ring out of his box and holds it in his hand, holds his hand out in front of him, very close to Gladys's own fingers.

At least he isn't kneeling. He's spent his entire life being taller than her, looking down on him at this moment would have been weird.

"I love you," FP says, simple and devastating. "I love you and I want to spend my life with you and it already looks like we're on track to do that anyway so why not make it official and besides," here he cuts himself off, snaps his lips shut, no doubt worried he's going to start babbling. He has a tendency to do that. Gladys thinks she might cry.

"FP?"

"Will you marry me?" Well. There it is. Out in the open. And Gladys has never really had time to think all that much about marriage, nor has she ever really felt the inclination to, but a marriage with FP... A life with FP...

"OK." His jaw drops as if he wasn't actually expecting her to answer at all, let alone give him an answer that he actually wanted. And then he's smiling, and so is she, those grins that make your cheeks ache if you do them for too long, but who fucking cares she's getting married!

FP slips the ring on and then she goes over to his side of the table to kiss him and thinks to herself, This is love.

* * *

 

She doesn't tell Hiram any of that, at their ten year. He's her best friend, yeah, but that was personal. Instead, she just shrugs and tells him,

"I didn't ask. There were more important things on my mind at the time." Hiram chuckles and nods, giving a half shrug as if to concede, Yeah, you're right on that point. It's the first time Gladys has seen him face to face, in person, for nearly ten years. She missed that face, missed that smile.

Missed her friend.

"Besides, you can't be all that impressed with this," she jokes. "I'm sure you must have given Hermione something big enough to sink her to the bottom of the Hudson River." Hiram laughs and his cheeks flush slightly, she can see it even under the lights.

* * *

 

Technically, when he proposed, it wasn't with the ring Hermione ends up wearing for the rest of their marriage. When he proposed, it wasn't even with a real actual ring.

Technically, Hiram Lodge proposes to Hermione Gomez with a Ring Pop.

It's a year after college and he's starting to really get his footing in the business world, turn the money he'd gotten from his parents, the money he'd been given as a final parting gift from his father, into something good, something lucrative. Lodge Industries will rule the world someday, he's sure of it. Hermione's got a teaching job meanwhile, even if she doesn't need one. But Hiram respects her need for independence.

He understands it.

They've been walking in Central Park, currently sitting on a bench and casually people watching, hand in hand, and Hiram's been thinking about death. Not in that macabre way, not in some way about how he wants to die or how life is futile and death is inevitable and some other cliché that would best serve the burgeoning emo rock scene or whatever they call themselves. He's just been thinking, very casually, about death. About what's left of people after they're gone. Bodies, certainly, and legacies, and their memories in the minds of people who love them.

If he died, right now, he'd live on in Hermione's memories. She loves him. She tells him at much, and Hiram tells her that he loves her too. And he means it. How can he not mean it, when he's wanted her since their junior year of high school?

"Do you think they know how rare that is?" Hermione asks, shaking him out of his head. She nods to a couple, almost like they were just a few minutes ago, strolling along the path. They both have white hair and lined faces and very loving eyes.

"How rare what is? Walking?" Hermione scoffs, but leans her head against his shoulder.

"Being in love and staying in love with that one person for so long." Hiram hums, presses a quick kiss to her hair. He hasn't spent that much time pondering the rarity of love, but he understands what she's talking about, where she's coming from. "There's got to be some kind of recipe, don't you think?" Hiram shrugs slightly with the shoulder her head isn't resting on.

"You just need two people who love each other and work together," he says simply. "Like us." He thinks, even through the material of his shirt, that he can feel her smile against his skin before she pushes off of him and fishes a packet out of her coat pocket. "Where'd you get candy?"

"One of the kids brought some for everyone, and decided that Ms. Gomez deserved some." It's rock candy jewelry, the one that was so popular on the playground when he was younger, when they were both younger. Hermione slips the edible ring on her left ring finger, and he has a very vivid memory of watching almost every girl he knew do the same thing.

So Hiram Lodge, hoping to own a monopoly on the entire world, starts acting like an idiot.

"Do you like being Ms. Gomez?" Hermione stares at him askance, canting her head.

"Like, being a teacher?" She shrugs. "Yeah, I like it all right."

"No, I mean," and there has to be a smoother way to do this, but for whatever reason Hiram's brain has decided that now is the best time to short circuit. "What I'm saying is, right now you're wearing a Ring Pop where you'd have a wedding ring." Hermione nods, brows furrowing. "Do you-do you-do you want a real ring there? From Tiffany's, or something, because they're not that expensive there I checked once and -" Hermione puts a hand over his mouth and he dutifully shuts up.

"Are you asking me if I want an engagement ring?" He nods. "Are you asking me to marry you?" She's better at his own on the fly proposal than he is. Which is honestly a little sad, so Hiram tries to rectify the situation, maneuvers his mouth from under her hand and touches her cheek.

"I do love you, Hermione Gomez," he says. "And you're talking about love and hypothetical marriage and candy rings and I'm asking you, do you want a real marriage and a real ring? Because I can give you a real marriage and a real ring to go along with it, if you'll have it." Hermione's eyes are the size of dinner plates, and for a moment Hiram thinks he's fucked up real bad.

Except then she's kissing him and he takes it as a yes. And everything feels amazing, even if the sticky Ring Pop that started the whole thing ends up getting caught in his hair.

* * *

 

He doesn't tell Gladys any of that, at their ten year. She's his best friend, yeah, but that was personal. Instead, 

"Did you ever think? Us and them?" No. No, none of them thought.


End file.
